


First Fantasy NaNoWriMo: 11: Mikkel the Magnificent

by SkiesOverTokyo



Series: FirstFan NaNoWriMo Drabbles [11]
Category: First Fantasy (Webcomic)
Genre: Boasting, Character Study, Dragons, Lots of dragons - Freeform, Other, imagine mads mikkelsen voicing Mikkel and you'd be pretty much on the money, this was fun to write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-22 08:17:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16594232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkiesOverTokyo/pseuds/SkiesOverTokyo
Summary: Mikkel the Magnificent introduces himself to a new employee.





	First Fantasy NaNoWriMo: 11: Mikkel the Magnificent

My name is Mikkel the Magnificent. Well, technically, my name is impossible for the human mouth to pronounce, lacking the ability to produce sounds below your meagre hearing range, and I have titles beyond measure, which would require several days for one man to say, and many more to write, but to keep things simple, and to help the flow of conversation, I dub myself thusly.  
  
I am, as I’m sure you have already noticed, a dragon.  
  
Let that sink in for a moment.  
  
Let yourself…savour the sight before you, let it become a memory you look back on fondly, if I allow it. Satisfied? Let me continue.  
Though dragons are not as rare a beast as they once were when I was naught but a hatchling, through efforts that include my own, I am sure, dear traveller, you have rarely seen such a specimen as myself.  
 Do I not fill the cavern before you, filled with so much gold and treasure that the sun itself does not shine with such a glister, though this collection be but trinkets compared to the mountain below us? I do? Good.  
  
Behold my wings! Not a creature in the worlds, from the time of the first coming of the Gods, has had such a wingspan, nor the power or speed I possess! Nor, from now till the bell-hammer that silences the world, and marks the Endtimes, shall any creature surpass me! Tremble as you look upon me. You are trembling with fear, or admiration. Both are good qualities, traveller. Learn them well.  
  
As for my scale, teeth, claws, eyes, each is a wonder unto itself-no weapon can even scratch me, let alone pierce-I laugh at the attempts of those who try, and laugh again at the vain search for an underbelly-I possess no weak spot, within or without. The greatest fortress of the Empire, Dragonsback, is like an open, naked thing compared to my impregnability.  
  
My claws and teeth crush steel, devour dvarvcast, crack diamond. I eat stone, tear fortress and mountain root like paper, I could even crush a God beneath my talons.  
I see all. No elf, not even the eyes of the Laird Dylan, before he plucked them in penance, could see as far or as clear as me-even in the darkest night, I see better than any hawk or hunting bird could in broad daylight.  
  
But, these are merely assets, tools to be used by myself-a weakminded creature would not use these talents so. For my sharpest weapon is my mind, and I keep it sharp to cut and stab at ideas and plots, until they are just so. Look around you, traveller. Marvel on my wealth, on the things that my rule at the top of the great Dragonic Pan-Imperial Bank, bankrolling and aiding every achievement human and orc and elf and Dvarve have ever made. Look on the works that we made possible, traveller. Everything you take for granted, even this very empire, underlined with Dragonic gold, _my gold_. Your Emperors may come and go, but I endure. Your emperors may have given birth to the Empire, but I was and am its midwife, bringing it into the world whole and safe.  
  
The Gates of Hrom? A loan from us  
The Wall that keeps the accursed Edge from rolling its cities south to war? A joint project between us and the mighty Dvarven Banking Clan of Hrull Hannon.  
The skyports, the capital itself, and a hundred cities, and towns and the Great North Road?  
All us.  
  
A hoard has long since passed being a seat, a bed, a home. It is an investment, something to be used to gain more wealth. Anyone but a fool can see that. Your gold does not magically accumulate from sitting on it, after all, but from carefully apportioning it out, and calling in the loan several years, or decades down the line. I have time. I can wait for my investment to return. And, should they default, I either threaten to, or indeed burn down what the money was used to build.  
  
Now, look about.  
The harp of the legendary Blind Grauniad  
The lost staff of Ellus the Wise  
The Swords of Eldritch Sisters, each broken where they duelled one final time.  
A hundred other things of myth and legend,  
All mine.  
  
I am a collector, of tales, of things, of people.  
And you will make a fine addition.  
Fear not. I will not hurt you. I’ve read your resume.  
I think your skill as a cook may make you the most important thing in my entire collection.  
  
For you see, these things, are merely trifles.  
The business empire.  
My collection, of legends and myths material.  
What I really want to do is eat everything. Each and every thing at least once. It is an undertaking beyond count, beyond reason, but, ah, one needs a hobby for eternity.  
  
But what I think we will start with, little traveller, is a simple thing.  
I would like to eat an omelette. Not of any special bird, nor using  rare ingredients. Merely a dragon-sized omelette. Now, you should find a well-stocked kitchen down the corridor to your right. I have equipped it for you with any tool you may need and with many kitchen staff, recruited from across the empire. I look forward to beginning this quest together, dear traveller. You will cook such things for me. Now, away. I must sleep before dinner.  
  
Oh, and traveller?  
  
Do not disappoint my refined pallet. Or you will be my… _amuse-bouche_.  
  
Now, go.


End file.
